


All The Walls Won't Make Us Fold.

by Jutschina



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Era, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 05:12:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14687190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jutschina/pseuds/Jutschina
Summary: It is the night before the barricades are built, and Enjolras finds Grantaire in distress.





	All The Walls Won't Make Us Fold.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is inspired by a line from Timebelle's beautiful song ["Apollo"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OrNPRfS9Sbg) (which is, not so surprisingly, perfect for this pairing).

Enjolras was the last one to leave the Musain that night. He packed together the maps and plans, and he was filled with a sublime calmness. Tonight, he would walk the streets and enjoy the quiet and peace one more time -- tomorrow, they would build the barricades and a new world would dawn upon the people of France. With such thoughts on his mind, he picked up the lamp that had thrown its dim light upon the room, and was prepared to leave when he heard a sudden noise. He stopped and listened, and he was almost convinced that his mind had played a trick on him when -- again! -- a muffled cry, coming from upstairs.

Enjolras climbed the staircase, not knowing what he should expect. The lamp in his hand illuminated the room just enough to reveal the creature that was huddled up in one corner. It was Grantaire, and he was crying.

Enjolras had last seen him a few hours ago with some of the others, and he'd wondered where he had gone. To find him still here now surprised him.

He approached the man slowly, put the lamp down next to him, so that it shed its light on his features, and gently touched him. "Brave heart, Grantaire! What's wrong?"

Grantaire had flinched the slightest under his touch, and now, still sobbing, looked up to Enjolras with glassy eyes. "You?", he mumbled in a shaky voice. "I thought you'd left with the others."

Now, Enjolras smelled the alcohol in Grantaire's breath and beheld the wine bottle at his feet. He kicked the latter and it rolled away, empty. Enjolras' face turned into a scornful grimace. "You're drunk!"

Grantaire shrugged his shoulders and bowed his head.

"Tomorrow, the dawn of a new world is upon us! Tomorrow, we'll fight and need all our strength, and you--"

"Forgive me, Apollo."

Enjolras shook his head in anger. "It's no good! Grantaire, we need every man out there! This is a fight for freedom! How can you not care for that but drink yourself into a stupor?"

The man at his feet was shaking now; he tried to turn away but Enjolras was merciless.

"If you only knew how to believe, you fool! In our cause, in yourself -- in anything!"

Now, Grantaire raised his eyes to the fierce blond and whispered: "But I do!"

Enjolras sighed and his angry face softened a little. He leaned down and put his hand on Grantaire's shoulder. "Then you don't have to be afraid, my friend. Stand with your brothers."

Grantaire, in his misery, was unable to respond but, with a sudden move, pushed Enjolras away, turned to the side and threw up on the floorboard. Whimpering, he fell back against the wall, vomit on his mouth and in his straggly hair, and he hid his face in shame.

Enjolras observed this in silence; he calmly removed his cravat, took Grantaire's face into his hands and cleaned him up. Then, he pulled the man to his feet and heaved him onto a chair.

"R", he said in a soft voice, "You need to rest now. Sober up, and fight with us. You've got it in you, I know that -- in your very heart and soul, you're one of us!"

"Is that why you tolerate me?"

Enjolras gave a short laugh. "You mean, 'tolerate' despite your drinking and scepticism? Maybe. Maybe I've always liked to have you around. Maybe I thought I'd know your true face, the face of a believer... if only you'd show it once." Enjolras rested his hand on Grantaire's shoulder. "Stand with us tomorrow!"

He meant to turn away then but Grantaire had taken his hand and held it tightly. "Don't leave me, Enjolras!", he cried and, pressing the man's hand, he kissed it again and again.

Enjolras stepped closer and, gently but firmly, withdrew his hand from the other's desperate clasp. "Be with me when I call to the barricades. Stand at my side, and I shan't leave you then."

"I need you."

"You need sleep, my friend."

Enjolras caressed Grantaire's face and leaned down to press a kiss on his hair, a kiss as light as a feather. Once again, he turned to leave when the drunkard -- who had barely made it to the chair with Enjolras' help -- jumped up with new energy; with the same, he leapt forward, embraced Enjolras and buried his face in his shoulder. Enjolras, taken by surprise, was thunderstruck. He put his arms around Grantaire and returned the embrace.

"I may not be capable of much", Grantaire breathed against his neck. "But I do know how to love, and how to follow my leader, Apollo!" Here, he pulled back and took Enjolras' face into his hands. He leaned in, and for the briefest of moments, their lips touched, a kiss as light as a feather.

Then it seemed that Grantaire's strength and courage had left him for good, for he let go of Enjolras and sank back on his chair. His hand was wandering aimlessly across the table, as if he was subconsciously reaching for a bottle of wine.

Enjolras, however, smiled brightly; he seemed to radiate a light of his own altogether. He took Grantaire's vainly searching hand and pressed it.

"I have faith. We will stand together, side by side, hand in hand. I know you won't fail me, Grantaire, because I believe in you. Rest tonight without fear, my friend. Tomorrow, I'll see you and we'll change the world together."

With these words, he left. Had he stayed but a few seconds longer, he would have heard Grantaire who, half in trance and moved by this speech, replied: "I promise."

....

_The next time that they saw each other, Grantaire was drunk and miserable, and he met Enjolras' scornful gaze with the deepest shame. Enjolras, however, turned from him, his own heart sinking as he felt his faith betrayed._

_The last time that they saw each other, it all was over, and maybe Grantaire had been right all along with his scepticism and his fear. Yet now, he did fulfill his promise -- and he and Enjolras stood side by side, hand in hand, at last._


End file.
